


Smooth Runs the Water Where the Brook is Deep

by Emrys MK (mk_malfoy)



Series: Merlin Episodes: AUs, Missing Scenes, and Inspired By [19]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Canon Era, Canonical Character Death, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Infidelity, M/M, Non-Linear Narrative, Post-Canon, Post-Episode: s05e13 The Diamond of the Day, Post-Series, Temporary Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-22
Updated: 2015-10-22
Packaged: 2018-04-27 13:08:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5049769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mk_malfoy/pseuds/Emrys%20MK
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merlin’s journal and Arthur are gone, but, as Merlin discovers, sometimes things and people who mean the most to us can return in the most mysterious ways.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Smooth Runs the Water Where the Brook is Deep

**Author:** Emrys MK  
**Title** : Smooth Runs the Water Where the Brook is Deep  
**Rating** : M+  
**Pairing** : Merlin/Arthur  
**Characters** : Hunith, Percival, Sir Leon, Gaius, Gwen, George  
**Summary** : Merlin’s journal and Arthur are gone, but, as Merlin discovers, sometimes things and people who mean the most to us can return in the most mysterious ways.  
**Words** : 16,000  
**Warnings:** major character death, minor character death, grief, angst, strong language, explicit sexual content, non-linear, and there is some fluff to make up for all the angst  
**A/N** : I don't like to spoil people, but the major character death doesn't mean there is a sad ending. That's all I'm saying...  
**A/N** : The title is from Shakespeare's Henry VI. Part II, 1592.  


  


  
**~*~Two Weeks After Arthur’s Death~*~**  


 

_Merlin,_

_Return from whence you came a fortnight past, your dreams could come to be at last._

 

“Who gave you this?” Merlin asked his mother, confused and upset as he re-read the words on the parchment. What were they playing at? Did they think this was funny? Well, it wasn't.

“It was right before you came outside. A young girl approached me. She didn’t look familiar, but she handed me this and said I was to give it to you, that it was most important and there could be dire consequences if I did not,” she replied, concern in her voice and on her face. "What is it Merlin? Is it bad news? I knew I should have called for you when the girl was here."

Merlin swallowed. Two weeks earlier, to read such words would have given him such joy and all the hope in the world, but that was then, when he’d still had faith that Arthur might return to him. Now, all of that was gone. He handed his mother the parchment with shaking hands and watched her expression change as she read the words. She then looked up and her eyes filled with tears as she took one of his shaking hands in hers and looked him in the eyes. 

“You know, as well as I do, Merlin, that this is most likely someone playing a cruel joke on you, but you’ll go.” It was not a question.

“I have no choice, do I?” Merlin said, sounding like a sullen child.

“You do.”

Merlin looked up towards the sky and shook his head. Hadn't he already been through enough? Someone was doing a very good job of making him mental. “And live the remainder of my life wondering if I’d made a horrible mistake? Yeah, I’ll go, and when I find out who sent this I'll make sure they get what they deserve,” he said, continuing to shake as he tried to keep his emotions in check. He knew he shouldn't let this get to him, but he couldn't help it. How dare someone play with his emotions like this. He was finally beginning to accept that Arthur was gone and not coming back, and then this. 

He roughly wiped away the tear he knew was about to fall. He’d go to the lake, find the person responsible, make them pay for what they’d done, then he’d return to Camelot. "I can't believe anyone would do such a thing. Bloody wonderful. I finally feel as though I can breathe and think about a tomorrow without Arthur, then someone thinks it funny to send this to me. Did they really think I'd fall for this? They didn't even try to make it sound as if this came from Avalon. They used _Merlin_ , not _Emrys._

Merlin was tired and felt as though he were about to lose it, but he wouldn't, not just before leaving Ealdor. The last thing he wanted was for his mother to send her son off, worrying about him. She'd just spent a week trying to help him get through his grief. He didn't want all her work to be for naught. He attempted to rein in his irritation and smiled at her. "Don't worry, I'll be fine." He then hugged her and didn’t want to let go.

He wanted so very much to run inside and never leave again. There was so much facing him back in Camelot, except the one person he wanted most, and he didn’t want any of it, but life wasn't going to stop for his grief, so he knew he needed to meet it and not hide from it. He was an adult, Arthur was gone, and home was no longer Ealdor. He closed his eyes at the thought and had to fight the tears that were so very near.

Several minutes later, after a teary goodbye with his mother, Merlin reluctantly set off for the place that two weeks earlier had shown him what absolute grief and loss was. It had marked an ending to all his wants, needs, and dreams, but, even though it had been the most defining ending of his life, thus far, it hadn’t been his first. Endings, unfortunately, had been a regular part of Merlin’s life for years.

  
**~*~Four Years Before Arthur’s Death~*~**

 

Merlin was exhausted. He’d been running around the castle all day, taking flowers to this room, polishing silver in that room, making sure there were enough chairs in the Great Hall, escorting visiting kings, queens, princes, and princesses and their servants to their rooms, tasting the food to be sure it was as Arthur liked it, esoterically using his magic to remove a rather large stain from Gwen’s wedding gown, and on and on. The worst part was that it wasn’t over.

Arthur was safely ensconced in his bed and would require Merlin no further this night, but others would. A servant’s work was never done. Merlin sighed as he walked by the kitchen and heard the cooks lamenting the long hours and the fact that they would never get any thanks from King Arthur for all their hard work. Merlin understood and made a mental note to make sure thanks did make its way to the kitchen, even if it didn’t come from Arthur, himself. Perhaps he never received thanks, but that didn’t mean others couldn’t. Merlin grinned, then yawned.

If he could only get an hour’s sleep he would be refreshed and ready to take on whatever task he was given, but there was no rest for the weary, especially not on the eve of the wedding of Camelot’s King Arthur to his bride-to-be, Guinevere, but he had perhaps half an hour before he was expected to meet Gwen’s maid to go over their schedule for the following morning. No, sleep was not on Merlin’s agenda for the immediate future, but perhaps he could take advantage of the few minutes’ peace and quiet and write in his journal. If he didn’t do so now, he wasn’t sure when he’d get another opportunity to do so, and if he waited until he really did go to bed, there was no way he’d take the time to write then. 

As it was, he really didn’t feel like writing anything, but he had been so good with not missing many days since he’d arrived in Camelot. To be sure, it was a chore rather than something that gave him satisfaction these days, because all his entries ended the same: with a miserable Merlin lamenting his menial existence. Nevertheless, he wouldn’t allow his self-pity to deter him. He was better than that and, as his mother had told him the last time he was in Ealdor, his future self would appreciate his dedication. Merlin doubted that his future self would care one way or the other, but he did have quite a bit on his mind and he knew it would feel good to write it all out. At this thought, he grinned. Arthur would most definitely call him a girl if he knew his servant kept a daily journal, but then Merlin sobered, because if Arthur ever found out what his servant’s journal was filled with these days, he’d probably dismiss him straight away, and that thought wasn’t a pleasant one. Merlin didn’t even want to think about that. It was difficult being so near Arthur on a daily basis and not be able to tell him how he felt, but the thought of not being near him at all panicked him. Merlin rolled his eyes when he thought that it was just like the king to have made it so his servant was dependent on him. Arthur would no doubt get a good laugh out of that one and laud it over Merlin forever. All the more reason for Arthur never to find out.

Several minutes later, as he opened the large book, filled with parchments, Merlin was tempted to flip back through the older entries and read what he’d written a year earlier, but he dared not, for if he were to do so, he would be paralyzed with grief, and the grief Merlin already felt about what was to happen the following day was quite enough to be going on with, so he wisely decided the past was best left in the past, or to his future self.

Seated on his bed, he began to write.

  
**~*~ Five Days Before Arthur’s Death~*~**

 

When they were sixteen, Will had asked Merlin what it was like to have magic. Could he feel it? Did it cause him pain? Was his magic anything he could lose? Merlin remembered not knowing how to answer most of those questions, because he had never thought about the negative aspects of magic. He had always considered his abilities a gift and that he was one of the lucky ones, but Will’s questions had startled him and made him realize that others might have the same thoughts and that perhaps what he could do was not something others would appreciate.

Even as his mother had prepared him for the possibility that not everyone would share his thoughts on sorcery, this new realization had upset him, but, rather than respond in anger to Will--it wasn’t as if Will didn’t like the fact that Merlin could do magic, he was only curious and being honest with his questions--Merlin had taken Will’s hand in his and put both their hands over his heart. Then he had whispered an incantation and watched Will’s face; he’d wanted to witness the moment Will felt what it was to have magic coursing through the entirety of one’s body, and he didn’t have to wait long. Will’s eyes had widened and he’d opened his mouth in that familiar look of wonderment. Merlin remembered grinning. “This is what I feel every moment of the day, Will. It’s not something I think about. It doesn’t bother me, and it doesn’t hurt. It isn’t something I’m scared of. It’s all I’ve ever known.”

 _"All I’ve ever known_ ,” Merlin whispered, a frown on his face as he stared out the window in his room and watched the villagers milling about Camelot. They had to know by now that they were at war with Morgana and the Saxons. Were they afraid?

Merlin was. What if there were no answers at the Crystal Cave? What if he was unable to regain his magic? There had never been a time he hadn’t been by Arthur’s side in battle, but now there would be, and the thought of leaving the king magically defenseless terrified Merlin.

Equally upsetting was the sense of abounding sadness that had very little to do with his magic. When he’d told Arthur he wouldn’t accompany him to Camlann, the look the king had given him, and the words he’d said had cut Merlin to the bone. Merlin knew Arthur hadn’t the facts--he had no idea what Merlin was doing and why he was doing it, he had no idea what it was costing Merlin to not go, and he really had no idea how much it hurt Merlin to think that he had lost the respect of the King of Camelot--but to think that Arthur would think so little of him aggrieved Merlin and, if he were completely honest with himself, broke his spirit. To be called a coward and to have to stand there and not respond had been painful and it had taken all of Merlin’s reserve to keep his emotions at bay, because all he'd done for more than ten years was protect Arthur on a daily basis. No matter his other duties, his first and foremost task had been to see to it that the Prince and, later, King of Camelot came to no harm, and Merlin wasn’t being at all smug when he’d thought that he’d done a really good job of that.

It was all of little consequence now. He'd done what he needed to then, and he'd do what needed to be done now. He would go to the Crystal Cave and he would get his magic back. It was as simple as that. Merlin had no room for error and to doubt the outcome would be his first and most fatal error. He let out a deep breath and turned to finish getting his belongings together when there was a knock on his door. Merlin hoped it was Gwaine; he was ready to go and get his magic back. "Come in."

“Merlin, Percival stopped by to let you know that Gwaine will be here in an hour. He was in a hurry so I told him I’d inform you,” Gaius said as his eyes no doubt took in the sad state of Merlin's room. He raised a brow, looked at Merlin, and shook his head.

‘Thanks,” Merlin replied, only because it would be rude not to acknowledge his mentor, the one person who it seemed never doubted him… and the one person who Merlin knew he couldn’t hide from. He knew that look. Gaius was about to give him advice that he really didn’t want to hear. “Don’t. Just don’t, Gaius.” Merlin pleaded with his eyes for this to be the end of it, but he knew better than that.

Gaius released a rather overly dramatic sigh and let a small laugh escape. “Ten years, Merlin. If you believe that after ten years of you being under my tutelage that I would turn and walk away when you are in the state you are in, then the Gean Canach took away more than your magic, dear boy.” Gaius crossed his arms as if daring Merlin to object. Merlin opened his mouth to speak, but Gaius held up his hand. “Not to worry, I am not going to force you to tell me what you refuse to talk about. You already told me you do not wish to speak of what went on between you and the king, Merlin, and I’ll respect that, but you need to understand that your mind needs to be clear and open when you enter the Crystal Cave. Your body needs to be receptive to the elements, and if you have emotions muddling your thoughts, that could hinder you getting your magic back. Now I’ll leave you, but if you decide you need to talk, I’ll be preparing breakfast.” Then he was gone, leaving behind an agitated Merlin.

Did he want to talk to Gaius? Merlin knew he should talk to someone, but he couldn’t talk to Gaius. Not about this, and there wasn’t anyone else he could confide in, at least not in Camelot. 

Closing his eyes and sighing, he looked over towards his bed. There was nothing for it--it was time to write in his journal again. He didn’t want to--he hadn’t looked at his writings for more than two years, and the last time he’d made an entry was the day before Arthur and Gwen had married. He’d opened the journal the following day, prepared to write down his emotional thoughts about the wedding, but just as quickly, he’d closed it, having lost the desire to document his thoughts any further, and that hadn’t changed. The thought of doing so now almost made Merlin ill--what his writings had become towards the end had been difficult to write down and he didn’t want to be tempted to relive those moments when his every thought had been about how he longed for Arthur but knew he would never have him--but he knew he had no choice. 

He had so many emotions coiling through him and, according to Gaius, those emotions could block him from regaining his magic, and that was not an option. Arthur’s very life could depend on Merlin regaining his magic, and whatever he had to do to reach that end, he would.

His body physically shook as he walked the few short steps towards his bed. He took a deep breath, got on all fours, pried open the floorboard, hoped the rats hadn’t got to the book, and froze.

Perhaps the rats hadn’t got to the book, but someone had.

It was gone.

  
**~*~The Day of Arthur’s Death~*~**

 

Merlin sat against the tree and stared at the lake. Arthur was long gone. Wherever he’d disappeared to sometime after Merlin had sent him into the lake, it was somewhere Merlin would never be able to go. Such a thought made breathing difficult and brought about a new onslaught of tears. His one last plea to save Arthur had failed and the realization was another blow. Why hadn’t they listened to him? He’d called out to the Sidhe Elder and had begged for it to spare Arthur’s life, crying out that when Sophia had attempted to kill Arthur, both Sophia and her father had been killed instead, so two lives had been taken in the stead of one. Merlin knew it to be highly improbable, but he’d thought that if the balance of life was one ahead in the death count, just maybe Arthur’s life would be spared. But, of course, that had been too much to hope for. Arthur was gone and he wasn’t coming back.

When the tears made it impossible to see the lake, Merlin leant his head back against the tree bark and closed his eyes. This was a nightmare that he wished to never wake from. Unfortunately, he knew he had no choice. At some point, whether it be an hour, a day, or a week, he’d be back in Camelot, or somewhere, but wherever he’d be, it would be in a world without Arthur. Arthur would still be gone. Still be dead. Still be separated from Merlin forever.

“Oh, Arthur,” he whispered. Everything had gone terribly wrong. Merlin had done what he thought needed doing, but it had been too late. And the price had been Arthur’s life. 

Merlin was so very angry. He wanted to hit something. How could life be so unfair, to take away someone such as Arthur when there were so many others who didn’t deserve to live? Perhaps that was unfair of Merlin to think, but there it was, and he couldn't care less what anyone thought about how he was acting. 

“Don’t you dare mock me, Arthur. I deserve to cry, to act like a girl.” Merlin then looked around, because, as much as he didn't care about what others thought, he really didn’t want anyone to see him like this. It was a private moment, only for him, and, perhaps, Arthur, wherever he was. Satisfied that he was alone, Merlin turned back and stared ahead at the placid lake and all he saw was the image of the small boat as it had floated away, carrying Arthur's precious body within. 

And somewhere out there was the sword that Merlin had had forged in Kilgharrah’s breath so that Arthur could kill a Wraith. That had almost gone terribly wrong, hadn’t it? But it had worked out and that sword had helped both him and Merlin. It was just too bad that someone else had also known the advantages of having a dragon breathe fire on a sword to make it deadly. "GGGGAAAAAAHHHH!” Merlin cried out. He couldn’t face this. He dug the palms of his hands into his eye sockets and didn’t think he’d be able to live another second. It hurt so very much.

He had cried and shouted in frustration and for his loss of Arthur, but now he cried until he made himself sick because thirty years hadn’t been enough. Arthur should have been allowed to have a child and he should have had the opportunity to grow old. He also should have been able to know what it was to live in peace, without the fear of Morgana.

Morgana. Merlin shook his head and berated himself. He’d opened the door for her to discover her powers. Hadn’t Gaius warned him not to? He had, just as he had warned Merlin about the dangers of going after the dragon egg. Perhaps Morgana would have discovered her powers without Merlin, but had he not taken the dragon egg, then the sword that pierced Arthur’s chest would not have been forged in dragon’s breath.

Several minutes later, when Merlin had sicked up for the third time, he tried valiantly to stop the tears; he needed to get himself together, but it was as if a dam had burst and everything he had ever hoped for and felt where Arthur was concerned came pouring out. He had lost it all. In the span of three days he had lost Arthur. He had lost everything.

He finally forced himself to stand; it had been hours since he had moved. He really didn’t want to move now, but if he didn’t, he was going to wet himself and, as grief-stricken as he was, he had no intention of walking around at some point with dried pee on his clothing. He leant against the tree to gain his bearings and, as he was about to walk towards the water, he heard movement. He froze, thinking someone was about to try and kill him. In the past he wouldn’t have given that much thought--his magic was more than a match for most people, but he was weak from exertion and grief and wasn’t sure if he could so much as make a spark appear.

“Merlin?” called out a familiar voice. “Are you okay?”

Merlin let out a small, shaky smile. Not bandits, then. It was Percival. But Merlin’s brief respite from reality faltered and he shook his head as he finally spotted part of Percival’s head through a tree limb. Merlin opened his mouth to speak, but he couldn’t.

“Where’s Arthur? Gaius told us he was injured and where we could find you.” Percival then emerged and began looking around, as if he were searching for something, or someone.

“He’s a--he’s--” and Merlin turned away, not able to face Percival. “He’s gone, Percival.” Once Merlin said those words, he began shaking and couldn’t stop.

“Merlin. Where. Is. Arthur. You are obviously hurt. Please, tell me where the king is,” Percival said, his words now calm and soft, as if he were speaking to a child.

Merlin turned around as more tears fell. “He’s dead, Percival. Mordred’s sword killed him. He’s dead,” He repeated, grief overwhelming him as Percival continued to walk closer, and when he was within arm’s length, he looked into Merlin’s eyes. He said nothing, but Merlin knew he was searching for the truth. Merlin wished he could tell Percival he was hurt and that Arthur was fine and could be found over beyond the hedge, but he couldn’t say any of that. "I sent him out into the lake. I hope I didn’t do anything wrong. There was no way I would be able to take him back to Camelot and there was no way I was leaving him for the animals. I had to send him off in a way that was befitting him. Please tell me I did the right thing, Percival,” and Merlin brought his hands to his face and then knelt as a wave of grief so strong that it had him on all fours overtook him and his head was in his hands and he was shaking and he didn’t feel that he would ever be able to stop.

Then Merlin felt himself being lifted, much like he had lifted Arthur into his own arms two days previous. He tried to speak, but no words came forth. He could no longer hear himself sobbing, but he felt the tears as they continued to trickle down his face.

Sometime later, Merlin heard another voice. He couldn’t be sure, but it sounded like Sir Leon’s. Merlin tried to listen to the conversation between the two. He thought he heard Percival saying something about Gwaine. Where was Gwaine? And why hadn't he come with Percival? Not that there was anything wrong with Sir Leon, but this specific mission wasn't one Sir Leon would normally go on. Merlin attempted to open his mouth to ask, but he couldn't. What he could and did do was think about the fact that he was getting further and further away from Arthur with each step away from the lake they took. Then his thoughts were interrupted when he felt himself being put on what he knew to be a horse, in front of someone else, who must have been Sir Leon.

“I’ve got you, Merlin,” whispered the knight Arthur had trusted above all others and considered his second-in-command. “We’ll be back in Camelot soon. Just try to get some sleep.”

Sleep was one thing Merlin doubted he’d be able to get, but he was so very exhausted and his magic had been so depleted from all his exertions that he fell asleep straight away and didn’t wake until he felt someone lifting him off the horse and settling him onto the ground. He tried to open his eyes. He was ready to talk, but he instead fell into a deeper sleep.

  
**~*~**

 

Camelot without Arthur wasn’t a place Merlin wanted to inhabit. The moment Leon and he passed through the gate, it was as if a deep pallor fell over him. He’d been in a fog since Arthur’s death and he’d felt lonely and bereft, but being back in the place where there were memories of Arthur everywhere was too much and Merlin really did feel as though he couldn’t breathe. Maybe he should leave Camelot and return to Ealdor. His mother would be happy to have him, but almost as soon as he'd decided that is what he would do, he knew that fleeing Camelot and his memories wasn’t the answer. No matter where he went, Arthur would be with him. Merlin turned his head and looked back at Leon. “I don’t think I can face Gwen. Not yet. Could you tell her I’ll talk to her tomorrow? I’m exhausted and need sleep, and I need a break.” Merlin didn’t say what he needed a break from, but that was obvious and Leon nodded his understanding.

When Merlin reached his and Gaius’s chambers he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He’d told Sir Leon he couldn’t face Gwen, but seeing Gaius wasn’t going to be any easier. It had been less than three days since Merlin had seen the physician, but so much had happened in that time and Merlin was a different person. He didn’t want to be, but he was. He reached for the door ring and turned it slowly, suddenly feeling faint. He couldn’t do this.

“Merlin?” called out a familiar voice and then Merlin was looking into Gaius’s familiar welcoming eyes and it hit him at once that there was no place else he’d rather be. He’d just lost his best friend and he needed to be with someone who cared for him and who understood just how important Arthur had been to him. His mother knew and understood, probably more than anyone else, Merlin’s true feelings for Arthur, but Gaius had watched Merlin and Arthur every day for ten years. He would understand how this great loss was going to affect Merlin’s daily life.

“Gaius,” Merlin whispered, and then he was pulled into the older man’s arms and he allowed himself to be hugged. He’d never been one to shy away from physical contact--he thought there was nothing wrong with hugs and showing affection--but he’d never needed to be hugged as much as he did this very moment. He closed his eyes and allowed his mind to go blank. He was home and, for the moment, that’s all that mattered. He had so much to think about and so many things to do: he needed to see Gwen and he needed to sit down with the knights and explain everything that had happened to Arthur, but that could wait for the morrow. All Merlin wanted at the moment was to not have to talk. He wanted to sit and say nothing, and he wanted to do that with Gaius. If the others didn’t understand, that was too bad. Merlin didn’t care. He’d care tomorrow.

“I know you are tired and need to rest, Merlin,” Gaius said as he slowly pulled away,” but you must be hungry, as well. As I said I would, I have your favorite meal waiting for you.” Then Gaius lowered his head so Merlin could look into his eyes. “What happened to Arthur is not your fault, Merlin. I won’t allow you to believe otherwise. You are too important to me and to other people for that to happen.” Then he turned and walked to the table where he was preparing the food.

Merlin’s chin quivered, but he didn’t shed a tear. What he did was thank whomever he needed to that he was home.

**~*~**

 

As Merlin sat down across from Gwen and nodded to Sir Leon as the knight left them alone, he finally understood that Arthur’s death was a tragedy for so many people. Merlin had lamented all his lost opportunities and the loss of companionship of his best friend and of something else that could now never be, but as he looked into the eyes of Arthur’s wife, he felt ashamed. His loss was great, yes, but nowhere near as monumental as Gwen’s. She had lost her husband. If Merlin was devastated, then Gwen must be beyond comfort. Merlin opened his mouth to speak, but what could he say? He tried again. “Gwen, I--"

Gwen shook her head and gave Merlin a small grin, which, through her tears, served to put him somewhat at ease. She was Gwen. She was the girl who had chatted him up as villagers had thrown rotten tomatoes at him. Yes, she was now the queen, but, to Merlin, she would always be, first and foremost, his friend.

“Thank you, Merlin,” she said before taking a deep breath. “We all owe you our thanks.”

Merlin didn’t understand. “I don’t deserve your thanks,” he said through gritted teeth, forcing himself not to lose himself in front of Gwen.

“Please don’t be upset with Gaius, Merlin, but I pried it out of him about you being the sorcerer and he explained why you were with Arthur. He told me you were the only one who could help him.”

It was a harsh laugh that Merlin let out. “Yeah, Merlin, he has magic. He will make the king all better. Only, it didn’t work that way. I couldn’t save him. What good is all the magic in the world when you can’t save the one person you’re tasked to save?” Merlin said, and when he finished he was unable to stem the emotion that came forth. “I failed him, Gwen,” he then said through his tears. “I failed you.” He watched as Gwen stood and walked over to him.

She knelt and took his hands in hers. “You have failed no one, Merlin. My husband was the King of Camelot. He was born to be king. From the moment he was born he was destined to be king. He was destined to rule over Camelot. He knew the risks he took each day as he went about his daily duties, and when he left the walls of Camelot, he knew he mightn’t return. When we were first married, not a day went by that he didn’t tell me how proud he was of me and that if he didn’t live to see me again, he wanted me to know that he loved me. He was well aware that his end would most likely not come when he was old and feeble, his grandchildren by his side. His death was not your doing, Merlin, and you most assuredly did not fail him. If you truly want to honour Arthur, Merlin, please accept that this was his end. He lived life how he was meant to. We will always miss him and we will hurt because he is not with us, but, in the end, Merlin, my husband lived his life the way he was meant to. Not a one of us has a right to question that.” Then she allowed her tears to become something more as she stood and walked to the window and looked out.

A few minutes later, after both she and Merlin had had ample time to have a good cry, she cleared her throat and turned towards Merlin. “You will stay, won’t you? I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you, too, Merlin,” she said, a genuine smile on her face.

“Yeah, I’ll stay. I’m going to Ealdor to see my mother. I need to do that, but I’ll come back. This is my home now.”

  
**~*~**

 

Merlin was about to leave when he heard a commotion outside his window. He looked out and saw George running towards his and Gaius’s chambers and thought he looked to be out of breath. Merlin set down his rucksack and went out into the main room, then opened the door to see George, his hand raised, about to knock. “What is it? Is anyone ill? Do you need Gaius?” Merlin asked, curious, and in a hurry to leave. The last thing he needed was to be delayed in leaving for Ealdor. He had thought of little else the past five days.

George shook his head. “No, I was looking for you. Sir Percival said he thought you’d left. I was meant to come by last evening to give you this, but I forgot. Here,” he said as he removed what looked like a book from the bag he was carrying. “Sir Leon said this is yours and that I was to give it to you.”

Merlin took it and stared at it. His journal. He let out a huge silent sigh. If anyone had found it and had read it… He looked back at George. “Thank you. What was Sir Leon doing with it?” Merlin asked, knowing it was doubtful that a knight would have shared such information with a servant, but he knew straight away that George knew something by the way his expression changed. "If you know anything, George, I want to know," Merlin said with as much authority as he could muster, as if a fellow servant's stern voice would hold weight.

“When I entered the stables last evening to muck out the stalls and prepare them for today, Sir Leon was speaking to Sir Percival. They didn’t know I was there. I should have left; I knew they were discussing important business, but I didn’t and overheard Sir Leon asking Sir Percival if he had found any other belongings other than the ones they had already given the queen that had been in King Arthur’s possession in Camlann. Sir Percival retrieved this book from his cloak and handed it to Sir Leon, telling him that the book belonged to Arthur and that he didn't think the queen should ever see it."

“And?” Merlin motioned with his hand, wanting to know what had happened next.

"And then I was caught, but neither Sir Percival nor Sir Leon seemed overly upset. Sir Leon asked me to take this to you and he told me if I didn’t I would be in serious trouble. I told him I would, then I was dismissed.”

Everything after that was a blur. Merlin’s mind froze and he couldn’t think. George left, Merlin returned to his room, and he set the journal on his bed.

His journal.

The journal had been in Arthur's possession when in Camlann. 

Arthur had had his journal.

Merlin swallowed. Then he closed his eyes.

His secret. Not the magic--he’d not mentioned as much as a hint of his magic in the journal--but the other one, that one that told of Merlin’s feelings for the king. Merlin took a deep breath. So Arthur must have known Merlin's feelings when they’d last seen each other. Or, perhaps not. Maybe he hadn’t read any of it or very little, but Merlin knew better. No, if Arthur had had this with him, he'd had it for a reason. He would have read it. 

Merlin sat on the bed and ran his hands over the familiar leather cover. He hadn’t given his journal a thought since he’d left for the Crystal Cave. He opened it to the very first entry he'd written the day he arrived in Camelot, but then his eyes were drawn to something that had not been there the last time he'd seen this parchment.

There were new words.

Merlin swallowed.

They were Arthur’s.

“Merlin?” Gaius called out, peeking through the door. “Your horse is ready to go. You need to leave now if you want to make good time.”

Merlin composed himself and looked towards the door. “Yeah, okay,” and nothing else for it, he shoved the journal into his rucksack and stood. He had a long journey ahead of him. The journal would have to wait.

~*~

An hour later than expected, Merlin stopped and set up camp for the night. It wasn’t an ideal spot--he’d much rather have stopped at his usual place, but it seemed some other animals had thought it a prime watering spot, as well, so Merlin had continued on. This place wasn’t bad, however; there was water, wood, and berries. Merlin knew he should try to find something more nutritious--Gaius had gotten on to him about not eating enough--but he wasn’t hungry and there were other things he’d rather be doing besides looking for game.

Popping a berry into his mouth, Merlin thought about Gwaine, how he'd loved berries or anything else he could find to eat as they'd travelled through the thick underbrush, and he had to smile. He missed Gwaine, but he was happy that he could think about him without his entire being aching.

As the sun settled behind the trees, Merlin stoked the fire and settled down to finally read what Arthur had written to him, but then the horse whinnied and Merlin looked around, hoping he wasn’t about to be joined. When nothing showed up, he sighed and returned his attention to the journal in his lap. All he’d thought about since leaving Camelot was that Arthur had written to him. At first, he had actually been a bit affronted that Arthur had written in _his_ journal, but probably less than a second later, when reality hit him and he remembered that Arthur was dead, he was quite happy that the king had been inconsiderate. Merlin grinned as he opened the journal. He took a deep breath and looked towards the bottom of the page where he had seen Arthur’s familiar scrawl.

 

_Merlin,_

_I know you are probably fuming about now--seeing that I wrote in YOUR journal. As your king, I have that right--I can do pretty much anything I wish to, as you know, but I only do this because it seems to be the only way you’ll ever know. Yes, I am being vague. You’ll understand. I apologize, Merlin. I never meant to read this. It’s a long story as to how I came to have your journal. If you want to know the particulars, ask Leon. He can tell you how I came to possess it, and I am guessing it is he who will have given it back to you If I haven’t survived, because, if I survive, it will be I who returns this to you. I do hope that will be how it is, but I haven't a good feeling about what is coming. The Saxons are fierce warriors and the luck that seems to have followed me over the past several years seems to have abandoned me. I need to go, but I’ve marked the entries I’ve replied to with leaves. They are in response to things you have written. It is my hope that once you read what I have written, you will understand and that you will not hate me. I’m only sorry I never had the courage to say any of this to your face. I guess in that, as well as many other things, you and I are alike. So, that’s that and I’m being called._

 

That was all Arthur had written. No goodbye. But now Merlin knew there was more. How had he not noticed the leaves before? 

Popping a few more berries into his mouth, he turned to the first leaf. It was the entry he’d written after he’d been poisoned.

 

_When I first arrived in Camelot, Prince Arthur seemed to be pompous and entitled. I've since seen another side of him that belies the self righteous attitude he oftentimes wears as if it were a badge of honor, but when he risked his life to save mine today, I realized there is much about Arthur I need to learn. I’d like to think that perhaps one day the two of us could be friends. I know that will never happen. He is the prince and will be king one day. I, a lowly servant that sees to his needs. But, still, it’s a good dream to have. My mother told me there is nothing wrong with dreams._

 

_Merlin,_

_When I saved you, I did so because it was the right thing to do and because you had saved my life. When I thought you were dead, I was frightened and embarrassed. I think that was the first time I didn’t want to be me. If being me meant allowing others to die for me then I wanted nothing to do with being me. I am glad and honored that I was able to help you. Had you died that day, my life would have been so much less than it is now._

 

Merlin grinned. Arthur would never have said any of this to his face, but it was nice to know how he'd felt. Merlin flipped to the next leaf and couldn’t help the smile, but it was mixed with such sadness. This was when he’d gone to Ealdor to help his mother and the others against Kanen. It was also when he’d lost his best mate. Losing Will still hurt, all these many years later.

 

_These past few days have been some of the best, yet some of the worst of my life. I returned to Ealdor to help my mother and the others of Ealdor when they were threatened. I thought I was on my own, and that was okay. I would do anything for my mother. But then Morgana and Gwen told me they were coming to help. I didn’t want them to; I was afraid for their lives, but the feeling I got when I knew they’d be by my side was like no other. I think it was the first time since I came to Camelot that I’ve truly felt a part of something. I mattered. Or maybe it was my mother’s impassioned plea that got to them, but whatever the reason, I felt like someone was rooting for me as a person, not as a servant. And as if that wasn’t enough, Arthur showed up and helped. I still do not know what to think about this. I was overwhelmed to see him and it still fills me with gratitude that the Prince of Camelot helped me. I know we’ve each saved the other’s life in the past, but this was so far beyond anything Arthur should have done. He could have been killed. He’d already wished me good luck before I left, and that had meant so very much to me, but to have him on my side, fighting for my people, showed me a side of Arthur I knew existed, but it was good to see it again. It reminds me that there is a person beneath his title. I think sometimes I forget that, especially when he is being such a clotpole. Morgana said Arthur wouldn’t have come to help unless he wanted to. And then my mother said we were like two sides of the same coin. She has no idea how close she came on that one._

 

_And now I need to write about Will. My best mate died. The last word he said was my name. He died protecting me and Arthur. I’ll never be worthy of his sacrifice. I’ll miss Will every day. He was my first friend, and I probably shouldn’t write this here, but he was also my first kiss and my first. He was my first everything. How do you say goodbye to someone who once meant everything to you? I love you, Will, and I thank you for what you have given Arthur and me._

 

_Merlin,_

_I am sorry about Will. Morgana told me that Will saved my life and that I’d be dead had he not put himself in front of me. I never meant for others to lose their lives for me. I know what it is to yearn for someone and to not have that person be by my side. It is a pain I would never wish upon anyone, yet I took that away from you, even if you and Will were no longer together. My father once told me that my name gave me the right to allow others to sacrifice their lives for me. He said we had important roles to play. I never believed him; why is my life more important than anyone else’s? Please know that I came to Ealdor because I wanted to help you. Regardless of what you think, I do consider you a friend. You are my servant and I treat you terribly at times. I regret that, but it’s who I am. But Merlin, I never do anything I don’t want to. As distraught as Morgana’s defection has made me, I loved her and her telling you I wouldn’t have come to Ealdor unless I wanted to was and is the truth. She knew me well. Now, if only I understood what this thing about two sides of the same coin means. Sometimes, Merlin, you say the oddest things. But, I guess that is what is so endearing about you. Never change, Merlin._

 

Merlin wiped away a tear. A thought entered his mind. Perhaps Arthur had felt the same… but he quickly dismissed it and flipped to the next leaf and took another deep breath. If he’d thought these entries were going to get easier, he was wrong, and he knew that the further he went, the harder it would become, because he knew what he had written about and he could only imagine the responses Arthur would give. Merlin yawned. He needed to get some sleep. One more entry, then he'd read the other entries once he was safely in his mother’s house, surrounded by love and the familiar smells of home.

 

_Arthur very nearly died a few days ago when he was bitten by the Questing Beast. He lived, but it was a close thing. Other things happened that I’d best not write about, but suffice it to say, I came close to losing everyone I have ever cared for. I don’t know how one can have so many emotions yet still be able to function. I hope to never have days like these again._

 

_Merlin,_

_I’ve always wondered what went on when I nearly died. I know much more happened than anyone told me. I guess some things are better left unsaid, but please accept my eternal thanks. I know I would have died if not for Gaius and you. And I am sorry your mother and Gaius almost died. I don’t understand why it seems that others often have to die for me to live. It’s so very unfair and let me tell you, now, Merlin, don’t ever sacrifice yourself for me. Never. Do you hear me? That’s an order from your king!_

 

“Aye, Sire,” said Merlin as he closed the journal and returned it to its previous place within his travelling cloak.

~*~

As the first vestiges of light appeared on the horizon, Merlin forced himself to get up. He’d not slept well and he could easily fall back asleep for another hour or two, but he would have plenty of time to rest once he was home, with his mother. The thought made Merlin almost cheerful.

He’d missed her every day that he was in Camelot, but he’d never needed his mother quite like he needed her now. He had lost his best friend, and he’d had others to help him deal with that loss, but the loss ran deeper and he knew his mother would understand, as she was the only person Merlin had confided in about his intense feelings for Arthur. Well, he had written his thoughts in his journal, but, even with his magic, his journal was unable to give him advice, and it certainly lacked the ability to hug him. The thought had Merlin chuckling as he mounted his horse and set off for Ealdor.

Several hours later, as he turned onto the path that would take him to the small house he had grown up in, the evening sky, filled with dark clouds, began to rumble with thunder and the soft, intermittent fall of moisture from the heavens that had been falling for the past several minutes became a hard, pelting downpour. Merlin picked up his pace as he allowed the mixture of smells from the rain and village to cloak him in memories of years’ past. Across the small ridge to his left was where he very nearly killed Old Man Simmons whilst felling a tree with his magic. Over the hill to his right was where Will and he had spent three months one summer building a fortress reminiscent of the castle they had heard was in Camelot. And if he were to turn around, he would see the woods where he had taken refuge when his rather odd abilities had manifested into what could only have been magic. He could still hear the birds twittering to and fro as he made dormant flowers bloom beautifully and bare branches leaf.

Minutes later, Merlin dismounted his horse, tied him to the post, and walked briskly to the door that would lead him to a comfort like no other. Before he could knock, the door opened and Merlin looked into his mother’s loving eyes. He had longed for this moment for days. He grinned and stared at the most important person in his life for several seconds, unsure what to do or say. The enormity of the past several days came back to him and he wanted to tell his mother everything. He was overwhelmed. Fortunately, his mother took the decision of what to do out of his hands as she pulled him into a hug. “Mother,” was all Merlin could say as he allowed his mother to comfort him as only she could.

“Oh, Merlin, you are a sight for sore eyes, my boy. Let me look at you,” she said softly as she stepped back and looked into her son’s eyes. “You’ve not been eating, have you?”

Merlin shrugged his shoulders. He’d conveniently forgotten about this part of coming home, but, in the larger scheme of things, he could deal with this; it wasn’t the worst thing on earth. “Gaius’s been making me eat, but, yeah, I haven't been hungry.” He again shrugged his shoulders as his mother nodded, and then she pulled him into another hug.

“My heart is heavy and it breaks for you. I am so very sorry about Arthur. I so wish I could take this hurt away from you.”

“I know,” Merlin said as he pulled away and wiped his eyes on his sleeve. “I wish you could do that, too, but I guess this is one thing you won’t be able to rock away,” he added, thinking back to those days when he had skinned a knee or been ill and his mother had rocked him until he calmed down or fell asleep.

  
**~*~**

 

While his mother prepared dinner, Merlin wanted to sleep, but as he lay on the floor, his mind was too active and all he could do was think about Arthur: the future that would never be, the laughs they would never again share, the insults that would never be exchanged, and on and on. Almost to the brink of tears, Merlin shook his head and forced himself to buck up. Then he retrieved the journal and decided to read another entry. Not that doing so would improve his mood, but he had to do something, and if he went in to talk to his mother, he would end up lamenting on his lost future, and that was the last thing he needed to do. Of course, there was great irony in that thought when he opened the journal. His _lost future_ infused each parchment within.

 

_Protecting Arthur from others hasn’t always been easy, but I’m proud to say I’ve managed, even when the dollophead made it difficult. But this afternoon I had to protect Arthur from himself. He could very well have killed his father. While I strongly dislike the king, what kind of a servant would I be had I let him kill his father, knowing he would never forgive himself? What makes it all the worse, though, is that I think Arthur’s reason for wanting to kill his father might be based on sound information. Arthur was told by Morgause that his father used magic to conceive Arthur. I don’t know, but I think this is probably true, but I told Arthur it was a lie. I had no choice. I’ve never seen Arthur looking as distraught as this afternoon and I had to do something. I hope I did the correct thing. I know what it is to not know a parent and long to see them. I want more than anything to see my father. I don’t even know that he is alive. My mother never speaks of him and I haven’t the courage to ask, so I understand Arthur’s longing to see his mother and I understand why he did what he did. The two of us are so very different, yet we do have similarities and I would like to think those join us together, if only in a small way._

 

_Merlin,_

_I am forever in your debt for what you said to me that day. I, too, think I was indeed born of magic, but you are right to say that I would have never forgiven myself had I killed my father. I was so very unhinged and there is no telling what I could have done. You proved to me that day what a true friend you were and are to me. I am saddened beyond reason that Morgause is the one who probably took Morgana from us, and to think I once trusted her and believed her, even if what she told me was the truth, sickens me. I know you’ll understand. I loved Morgana. I still love her. I blame my father for what she became. I also loved my father, Merlin. How could I not? I know he did some very bad things, but as I know you will understand, he was the only father I had. And I hadn’t a mother. Despite his failings, Merlin, I loved him and always will._

 

Merlin closed the journal. Yes, he did understand. Arthur had loved and needed his father. What child wouldn't? And, speaking of needing, Merlin needed a break. Remembering that day and what he'd had to do was all too much to think about. He remembered how afraid he'd been that Arthur might kill his father.

An hour later, Merlin sat across from his mother at the small table, eating the last bites of their small feast of ham, apples, parsnips and stewed tomatoes, and listening to her recounting the goings-on of Ealdor. He’d managed to eat almost every bit of the food on his plate, and didn’t miss his mother’s approving look. “You haven’t begun raising pigs as well as chickens have you, Mother?” he asked as he took the last bite of the piquant pork that seemed to melt in his mouth.

“I think not. Chickens are quite enough to be getting on with. Mary Cooper brought the ham to me this morning. Her husband slaughtered a hog the day before last and remembered that as a child you loved pork,” she said as she poured milk into her small cup. “You always did know how to charm the neighbours, Merlin,” and her grin took over her face and made Merlin’s own smile increase. 

“Yeah, Will and I spent many a day at the Coopers' house, er … helping in the garden,” he replied as he ate a parsnip. “We spent the better part of our summers delivering fruit and vegetables to everyone.”

“Yes, I remember well," replied his mother, a wistful expression on her face. "I am sure you and Will were only too happy to help," she then said, laughter in her voice. “I think surely the two of you ate more than you delivered.”

“Well, we couldn’t very well say no when Mrs Cooper offered us free food now, could we?” he said as he put a stewed-tomato in his mouth and closed his eyes, savouring the flavour.

“I do think you preferred her cooking to mine,” she teased.

“No, never,” he said, knowing it was an untruth, as did she. “But she did make a good pottage. Please tell Mr and Mrs Cooper thank you for the ham,” he said as he took another bite, thankful that his mother had neighbours such as the Cooper family.

“Everyone misses you, Merlin.”

Merlin doubted that. “Not all of them, surely,” and he glanced toward the small window that faced the copse of trees that had very nearly outed him as a sorcerer all those many years ago. “Old Man Simmons?” He couldn’t stop the laugh that followed and he didn’t even try to do so when his mother gave him the slightest of reprimanding looks. 

“Well, I couldn’t have known that there was anyone by the tree. It was freezing outside; everyone with sense was indoors,” he said, knowing he had set himself up, but he couldn’t be bothered to care. He was so happy to be home and to see his mother smiling and to be smiling himself that it didn’t matter if he made fun of himself. And, really, hadn’t a rather large part of his life over the past ten years consisted of him acting the fool to cover up his magic? And if much of it hadn’t been an act, contrary to what he had told Arthur? Well, Merlin would never admit to it. Even if it were true.

“Yes, Jebediah Simmons and you were the only two without sense that day,” his mother replied, shaking her head. “Oh, Merlin, how I have missed you,” she added as she reached across the table and took his hands in hers.

“And I you,” he said, the smile disappearing. “I’m sorry I haven’t come to visit you since you were last in Camelot.” Merlin didn’t like staying away from Ealdor and his mother, but the truth was that he hadn’t returned sooner because leaving Ealdor was almost worse than staying away. Each time he and his mother parted, it took Merlin days to get over the loneliness. So, he had resorted to staying away. It made little sense, but that was how it was.

“You have been busy with your duties in Camelot. I understand that,” she answered as she withdrew her hands from his and took a bite of apple.

“You should return to Camelot with me,” but even as Merlin said the words, he knew what her answer would be.

“You are a sweet boy,” she said, her smile wide and warm, her voice filled with love and over twenty-eight years’ worth of mother-son talks. “Thank you, Merlin. That you would want me with you in Camelot means more to me than words can ever express. I do love you and would do almost anything you asked of me, but this I cannot do,” she said, her smile wavering as she shook her head. “What I have here, in Ealdor, is not much, but I have been in this house for thirty-one years. Your grandmother and grandfather built this house from nothing. It is home. I met your father whilst living here. He filled this house with laughter and love. When he left, I didn’t think I would be able to go on, but then I found out you were to be born and you gave me a reason to be happy again. And I was and have been, Merlin. As much sadness as this house has seen, it has seen its equal in happiness. I could never leave. This place is as much a part of me as I am of it.”

“I know,” Merlin said, disappointed but not surprised by his mother’s response. As much as he wished for her to join him in Camelot, he understood her reasons for not wanting to do so. “Just as Camelot is a part of me, yeah?” he said, a sad grin on his face.

Early the next morning, Merlin woke and lit the fire and opened his journal to read the final entries, which made him sad. He didn’t want to ever read the last thing Arthur had written in response to one of his entries. But, that inevitability was getting nearer. Merlin sighed and forced himself to stop thinking about what was to come when he should be concentrating on what was before him. 

The next leaf was on the page where he’d written about Freya. She was one of those people who Merlin dreamt about often and they were always such lovely dreams. He had truly loved her. Now, of course, his affections were elsewhere, but at the time he had been completely enamoured with the girl who was cursed. His entry about her was short; his not mentioning magic in his journal rather made talking about her difficult, but he had managed.

 

_I met a girl the other day. She was like me. I’ve always felt different. So did she. I didn’t know her long, but I loved her. I was ready to run away with her, but then she was hurt and died. I’ve lost people who were close to me before, but I can’t describe how watching her die in my arms made me feel. It was horrible and I pray to all the gods that I never have to feel that way again. I so wish I could talk to Arthur about her, but I must remember that he isn’t like me. Why would he care about my problems? I know that is probably unfair to think, but I need to remember my place._

 

_Merlin,_

_You were in love and I never knew about it? Some friend you are! You know I’m just giving you a hard time, right? Seriously, I am so very sorry you had to lose someone you loved. I wish you would have confided in me. Not that I could have helped, but I could have tried. But then again, why would you have wanted to tell me? I certainly gave you enough grief, didn’t I? Yeah, I apologize for that. I wish I would have been a better friend to you. You should have come to me. Remembering your place? Oh, Merlin, if you only knew where your place should have been._

 

Merlin roughly wiped away the tears. All the lost moments. Everything he hadn’t said. Why? Why had he been so scared? Wouldn’t it have been better for him to have talked to Arthur? Because now he was seeing that he hadn’t been the only one too afraid to say anything. Now there would be no more chances for them to talk.

The next entry was the one he’d written after Lancelot had given his life to close the veil. With everything Merlin had been through, this event had been, until his loss of Arthur, the worst day of his life. Lancelot and he had forged a friendship and had been as close as two men could be without being more than friends. Merlin still grieved over the loss of his dear friend and he really didn’t want to relive this moment, but he would. He needed to.

 

_Lancelot is gone. He gave his life to close the veil. I wanted to be the one. I tried to be the one. I was badly wounded in my first attempt and I remember thinking I wanted to go. I wanted to save everyone. The only thing that hurt during that time was the grief I saw on Arthur’s face. He surely thought I was about to die. I never want to see him looking that lost again. I don’t think I understand why he would care so much, but it means everything to me that he does. I lived. Lancelot didn’t. I miss him so. I don’t make friends easily. There’ll never be another like Lancelot. For the remainder of my life I will strive to be worthy of his sacrifice._

 

_Merlin,_

_I’m so very sorry that you had to lose Lancelot that day. I never meant for any of you to die. I wanted it to be me. When I thought we’d lost you, I felt such loss. I couldn’t explain it and I didn’t understand. I do now and it makes sense. Never do that to me again, Merlin. I don’t think I could survive if anything ever happened to you._

 

Merlin wiped away more tears, but others replaced them. Although Arthur hadn’t come out and said it, Merlin was no longer playing dumb. Arthur had written these entries to tell Merlin a story, and it seemed to be the very story Merlin had never been able to tell Arthur. Of course he could be wrong, but he didn’t think so. And such a revelation hurt him. What fools he and Arthur had been. “One more,” he whispered as he turned the journal to the final leaf, knowing now that this was as much Arthur’s journey as it was his.

Merlin was almost afraid to read what Arthur had said in response to this final entry. It was the one he’d written the day before Arthur and Gwen’s wedding. He swallowed, remembering how upset he’d been when writing this. All his hopes had been about to be destroyed and the grief had been real, even if it was only the loss of a possible relationship and not of a life. If only he’d known then what true grief was. Merlin took a deep breath. He had to do this.

 

_Tomorrow is the day. I can hardly believe it has already been six months since I first knew this day would come. Arthur is ridiculously happy and walks around with a big goofy grin on his face. As I was leaving Arthur's bed chamber earlier tonight, I turned to him to wish him a good night and I almost thought I was looking into the eyes of a younger Arthur who was wearing donkey ears and braying. I laughed and told him he looked like a little kid who couldn’t wait until his birthday party. He said he couldn’t help it, that all his life he’d wanted a big wedding, with a beautiful bride and, now that it was real he almost couldn’t believe it. I told him it was indeed real, then I turned to leave, but he called my name, and his voice was no longer carefree when I turned to face him and he told me that this wedding changed nothing between us, that I was to remain his servant and do as I had done up until that very moment. I shrugged my shoulders and said something about _yes, Sire, whatever you wish_ , then I left, unable to get out of there fast enough. Arthur might think nothing will change, but, to me, everything will change. I don’t want tomorrow to come, but it will, whether I want it to or not. Tomorrow Arthur and Gwen will be married and I’ll still be me, and I’ll still be alone._

 

_Merlin,_

_I think you know by now my feelings, even if I haven’t come out and told you. When I told you things wouldn’t change between us, that is what I was talking about, Merlin. My feelings. I could never tell you. You know why. But now that I think my end is near I do not care what anyone else thinks if they should read this. I love you, Merlin. I don’t know when I first loved you, but I expect it was the day I defeated the dragon. When I saw you so distraught after the dragonlord was killed, I knew that you were more than what I had thought. You didn’t know that man, yet you grieved for him as if you did. Seeing that did something to me and it propelled my feelings to so much more than I thought possible. I admit that I’ve had feelings for you from the beginning. I didn’t want to. I denied it to myself. But I won’t do so now. I did and do love Gwen, but never the way I love you. It is my greatest sadness that you have had to remain my servant when I want you by my side and in my bed. I am sorry for telling you this now. If I am dead and you are reading this, know that I am so very sorry. I do not wish to hurt you further, but I wanted you to know how I feel and I don’t want you to think no one loved you. You have spent the past ten years protecting me and I know you have felt alone. You were never alone. And don’t laugh and say that I’m the one acting like a girl now. Shut up, Merlin. Give me this one thing. Let me tell you how important you were and are to me. It has always been you. Always._

_Love, Arthur_

  
**~*~Two Weeks After Arthur’s Death~*~**  


  


Merlin stood at the very place he’d stood two weeks previously. It looked exactly the same: There were no clouds in the sky, the water was calm, and other than a few birds twittering, there was little sound. “Okay, I’m here. Come out, wherever you are. Face me like a man. This is cruel, you know, having me return here. Did you really think I’d believe that Arthur would come back to me?” Merlin shouted, the echo reverberating into nothingness.

Nothing. Merlin waited for several minutes, but nothing happened. He turned to leave when he heard a noise. Then he saw something small floating in the water. Nothing else for it, he waded into the lake to retrieve it. It was a folded parchment, much like the one his mother had given him not so many hours earlier. He returned to the shore and couldn’t open it fast enough.

 

_Merlin,_

_What did you do? I thought I was dead, but when I opened my eyes I was surrounded by these weird looking creatures. One of them said someone had pleaded for my life using sound reasoning, so they decided that if anyone deserved another chance at life, I did. It seems I had almost died once before, or so they told me. They didn’t say it was you who pleaded for my life, but who else would it be? Gwen wouldn’t know who to plead with and, as far as I know, you’re the only sorcerer who would dare flout the laws of nature. You’re such a clotpole, Merlin. You should have let me die, but since you didn’t, I plan on spending the rest of my days with you. Too bad if you don’t want that. I’m your king and that is an order._

 

Merlin looked up when he heard a noise and brought his hands to his mouth when he saw Arthur emerging from the copse of trees. No. He began to shake and, as much as he tried not to, he felt the tears as they began to fall. Unable to stop the tears, but very able to move, Merlin ran towards Arthur. It probably only took seconds, but it felt like minutes before he was in the arms of Arthur, hugging him as if his life depended on staying in Arthur’s grasp, and he didn’t care that he was crying. Let Arthur tease him. Merlin would take all the teasing in the world from Arthur.

Several minutes later, Arthur pulled back only enough to look into Merlin’s eyes. “I love you,” and there was no censure or teasing to be seen in his eyes or heard in his voice. “I’ve waited for so long to tell you that, Merlin.”

Merlin wanted to say it back. He couldn’t be sure, but he had probably waited just as long as Arthur had and he couldn’t wait to tell him, but he was unable to speak at the moment, so he instead did the only thing he could think to do. He pulled Arthur towards him and leant in for a kiss. When he had to break for air, he wiped his eyes with his sleeve and let out a nervous laugh. “Arthur, if this is a trick and you’re not really you and not really alive, do me a favor and kill me here and now. You have no idea what it’s been like since you went away. I will not go through that again,” and that was the truth. Merlin would walk out in the lake and drown himself before he would leave this place without Arthur by his side.

Arthur kissed Merlin again, then hugged him. “I don’t know what we’re going to do, Merlin. I don’t know the protocol for someone returning to life after being dead. I expect there will be some explaining to do, but for now all I care about is that I am here, very much alive, and you are in my arms, where I have wanted you to be for so very long.”

Merlin nodded against Arthur’s neck, his eyes closed tightly. He was terrified to move or say anything lest any movement take Arthur and his dreams away. He began to cry harder. This was too much for him.”I’m sorry, but yeah, I’m acting like a girl. You can tease me all you want. I just, I just can’t believe this is real. Is it really you, Arthur?” Merlin then took a step back and touched Arthur’s face with his hands and stared into those familiar eyes. He looked like Arthur, and sounded like Arthur. But, so had the shade Lancelot looked like the real Lancelot. Merlin was so very confused, and when more tears fell down his face, he roughly wiped them away, feeling embarrassed. If only he could find a way to prove this was his Arthur.

Arthur took Merlin’s hands in his and kissed them. “If this were before I died, Merlin, I’d tell you that no man is worth your tears, but I seem to have changed my mind about that. Had it been you who had died, there wouldn’t be a soul alive who would have been able to stop my tears.” Then he leant in and kissed the corner of Merlin’s mouth. When he leant back, he smiled. “Cry all you want. I’ve done more than my fair share, waiting for you, and not just after I came back from the great beyond.”

“You’re really you,” Merlin said, knowing that this had to be Arthur. It was his Arthur. He laughed through his tears. “Oh, it’s really you. You’re here, beside me.”

“Yes, Merlin, it is really me. I’m here and I’m not going anywhere," Arthur said lifting Merlin's chin and looking into his eyes as if he were memorizing every detail. "Now I need to ask you something,” and when Merlin nodded, Arthur continued. “May I see your journal?”

Merlin hesitated, because he didn’t want to break contact with Arthur, but he forced himself to do so and reached down to retrieve the journal from his travelling cloak. He then handed it to Arthur, who opened it.

“There is one final entry I need to enter, Merlin, but if you don’t mind, I’ll recite it to you instead, okay?” Arthur said as he wiped away Merlin’s tears with his thumbs.

“Yeah, okay,” replied Merlin, still not believing this was truly happening.

"Merlin,

"I wrote in my final entry that I think I fell in love with you the day I defeated the great dragon. I explained that the way you reacted when the dragonlord was killed made me think so much more of you. Now, of course, I know that the dragonlord was your father. When I passed to the other realm, I saw him. Balinor. Oh, Merlin, that you had to grieve him alone that day is a sorrow I shall carry with me forever, and knowing that you were the one who defeated the dragon but let me believe that I did when I deserved no such accolade makes me know, without a doubt, that you are the one person who I want to be with until the day I die. There are many trials we will have to face and I have no idea how we will, but we will face them together for as long as you wish it. 

"While I am composing my final entry to you, I should tell you that there is one other thing I need to tell you, and I hope you’ll not be too cross with me. I’ve had your journal for the past several months. One of the guards brought it to me--they found it out in the snow. I’ve no idea how it got there. When I discovered it was yours, I had every intention of returning it to you, but you’d been acting so strangely recently and I thought perhaps this journal of yours could give me some insight as to why you were acting as you were. I know it was wrong of me and I beg your forgiveness. To read what was making you so sad didn’t make me happy. Quite the opposite. It was horrible, knowing that you wanted me and I wanted you, but neither of us were going to have what we wanted. I am so so very sorry you had to go through all of that. Had I been a true friend to you and not such a coward, things would have never gotten to this point. Again, please forgive me for reading your most private thoughts. I know you never meant for me to see them and I do feel as though I have violated your trust. I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me. I love you, Merlin."

Merlin smiled through a new onslaught of tears. Perhaps two weeks earlier, before Camlann, he would have been upset about such a confession, but now he didn’t care. Arthur had read his journal. Yes, that had been a violation of Merlin’s privacy, but then Arthur had died. Merlin had thought he’d lost him forever, but now he was back. That his journal had been read by Arthur didn’t matter in the least. It was so insignificant that Merlin wouldn’t even comment on it. 

The part of Arthur’s last journal entry that he cared about was the beginning, where he had spoken about his father. That is what mattered to Merlin. “Please don’t go anywhere, Arthur," he said as he slowly backed away a few feet. Then he closed his eyes and turned his back on Arthur. He counted to twenty and turned back around, fearful it would all have been a dream, but Arthur stood in the very spot, staring oddly at Merlin, as if he’d lost his mind. Merlin grinned; it was a familiar look he’d been the recipient of more times than he could remember.

”Merlin, what are you doing? You look like a lost puppy,” Arthur said, looking every bit the Arthur Pendragon that Merlin had known for ten years.

“Being me,” Merlin replied, giving Arthur a goofy grin.

“Come here, you,” said Arthur, his voice teasing, yet not. “Tell me, Sorcerer, are we alone out here?”

Merlin slyly grinned as he looked around and studied the area. He looked as far as his magic would allow. “We are, but you should know that this place should only be visible to those who have passed to the other side, so I think we’re safe here and that if we wanted to we could maybe do something?” Almost as soon as he’d said that, however, Merlin felt horrid. Arthur was married to Gwen. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking. Yeah, that was so stupid of me. Gwen. I should learn--”

“Merlin, you talk entirely too much,” Arthur said as he walked to him and took his face in his hands. “Gwen knows. I didn’t mean for her to, but she’s obviously brighter than either you or me. You'll be interested to know that, while she and I did share a bed and have had sex a fair few times, her affections have been reserved for someone else. She and I shared my bed in the hopes of making a little Pendragon, but she and Leon have been in a relationship for nearly six weeks now. She and I agreed that after Camlann, she would no longer share my bed. We would continue to have sexual relations once per month in our endeavor for an heir, but Leon wanted her in his bed and Gwen wanted to be there, so that's what we agreed. Of course, then I went and died, and er, yeah, so I'm not too sure what will happen now, but I want you and I don’t want to wait. I'm pretty sure Gwen isn't spending her nights alone, so why should we deny ourselves this pleasure?”

Arthur had a point. Merlin wasn't about to argue. He knew Gwen well and if she had planned to spend her nights with someone other than Arthur, he knew she had no issues with Arthur being with someone else, and Merlin could guess that she probably even knew who that someone else would have been.

Merlin couldn’t help but chuckle as he leant in and kissed Arthur. When he had to break for breath, he whispered in Arthur's ear, “I’d imagine animals come round about dusk and I really don’t want my bits being chewed on by anyone other than you, so we might want to er--” 

“Don’t mind if I do,” Arthur interrupted as he picked up Merlin and threw him over his shoulder, then he started walking until he found an area that looked more comfortable. He then carefully set Merlin down. “It’s not the royal chambers, but it’ll have to do for now,” and he didn’t give Merlin a chance to respond before he wrapped his arms around Merlin and kissed him.

Merlin moaned as he ran his fingers through Arthur’s hair. He was finally getting what he’d wanted for so long. When Arthur pulled back and grabbed the bottom of Merlin’s shirt, Merlin got the hint and helped him remove his shirt, then they removed Arthur’s. Merlin reveled in the feel of Arthur’s tongue laving his left nipple as warm hands undid his breeches. Soon he felt the cool breeze and knew he was naked down there. He smiled as he tugged off Arthur’s breeches, then Merlin found himself on the ground, on his back. It wasn’t the most comfortable bedding ever--in fact, it rather hurt--but Merlin couldn’t care less. A naked Arthur was above him, about to kiss him. Life was just about perfect. No, Merlin amended. It was perfect.

“I don’t have anything with me to make this easy for you, Merlin. Are you sure you don’t want to wait?”

Merlin shook his head, but when he realized Arthur wasn’t looking at his head, but his engorged cock, he let a small laugh out. “Honestly, Arthur? I think I can take it. I trust you won’t ram your cock into me like a lovesick boy.”

“I think I can control myself, Merlin. I'm not a lovesick boy, but not to worry. I’ll use my saliva and try to prepare you as best I can. Do you want to be on your stomach or facing me?”

“I’d rather face you, but without proper lube, I guess we should do this with me facing the ground. I wouldn’t want you to get so lost in my lovely blue eyes that you forget to take it slow.”

In true Arthur fashion, he rolled his eyes and then gave Merlin that familiar little laugh. “Turn over then, servant, and let me show you how your king can fuck you into the ground.”

Merlin rolled over and settled his head on his folded arms. He wanted to cry, but he would not. But, really, the moment overwhelmed him and he couldn’t believe this was about to happen. However, when several minutes later he felt fingers breeching him, he knew this was really about to happen. He moaned and pushed back, wanting those fingers in deeper. It burned and it hurt quite a bit, but there was no way he was stopping this. Finally, after what seemed an eternity, he felt what had to be Arthur’s cock teasing his crack. “Please, Arthur. Need you now.”

“And I, you. If I hurt you, Merlin, you must tell me to stop. We will be back in Camelot tomorrow and can continue this there.”

Merlin lifted his head and looked over his shoulder. “Way to ruin the mood, my king. I’m a big boy and I’m not a bloody virgin. And, if you must know, Will fucked me without lube several times, so please, get on with it.”

“Very well.” And Arthur began pushing in, his own moans and needy noises as loud as Merlin’s.

“So good,” Merlin whispered, but when Arthur was fully seated inside him, that is when Merlin knew how good it could really be. Yes, his bum was on fire, but it was one of those good burns and he was going to scream if Arthur didn’t move. “You can move now.”

“Your a bossy bottom, aren’t you, Merlin? Do you also talk dirty?”

“Fuck me, my king. Shove your thick cock up my arse like the greedy king you are. Mark me as yours and make it so no one else will ever want me. I want to feel your cream all up in me and I want to feel it running out of my crack. I want you to make me yours.” At this point, Merlin was finding it difficult to think, much less talk. Arthur began slamming into him. “So good. Oh Gods, so good, Arthur.”

“If you are as good a top as you are a bottom, we’re going to have sex every night, so I hope you’re ready, Merlin,” said Arthur as he withdrew and slammed into his lover again and again. Soon he began to lose control. “I can’t last. Going to come.”

“Me, too,” was all Merlin could say, sweat pouring down his face, and then both he and Arthur came at almost the same time. Merlin’s orgasm hit him so hard he thought he would pass out. When he came down from his high, he smiled. That had been bloody brilliant. “Arthur?”

“Yeah?”

“You okay?”

“Bloody brilliant, I’d say, and bloody tired. I’m exhausted, Merlin.”

“Well, we could sleep here, but, yeah, the thing about my bits being chewed worries me,” Merlin said through his grin.

“Dollophead. We’ll leave and stay where we stayed last time we were out this way.” Then Arthur lifted out of Merlin and sat up so he faced him. “You certainly are a needy little lover, aren’t you?”

“Just wait until I put my cock in you. You won’t be saying I’m little then,” replied Merlin as he turned his head to look at Arthur. “Thank you. I’ve dreamt of that for longer than I care to think about.” Merlin reached out his right hand and ran it up and down one of Arthur’s legs. “I can’t believe you’re really here.”

“Believe it,” Arthur said as he leant down and kissed Merlin.

Ten minutes later Merlin and Arthur were on Merlin’s horse, on their way to the place where they would again make love as many times as they could before the sun came up and they had to begin the last leg of their journey to Camelot. Neither knew what awaited them there, but what they did know was that they had each other, and with each other, they could get through anything.

“I’m still going to be your servant and I’m still going everywhere with you, Arthur. If you think I’m letting you out of my sight again, you are very wrong. I lost you once and I’ll be damned if I ever leave you again.” Merlin leant back into Arthur and kissed him then basked in the comfort of being safely ensconced within his lover’s arms.

“And I’m still going to be your king, and if you think I am going to allow you to not go everywhere with me, you are very wrong. I was taken from you once and I’ll be damned if I allow that again.” Arthur tightened his grip on Merlin. “I love you, dollophead.”

“And I love you, Clotpole,” Merlin said, still basking in the afterglow of the best sex he’d ever had. “So, what do you remember? How long were you dead?” Merlin asked, not able to quell his curiosity any longer. Perhaps he was being too forward and maybe Arthur didn’t want to talk about it, but he had a mouth. If he didn’t want to talk about it, Merlin knew he’d say as much.

“Long enough.”

And that was all Merlin received in way of an explanation. He hoped Arthur would share more at some point in the future, but if he didn’t, Merlin didn’t care. All that mattered was Arthur was alive, sitting behind him, holding him as he led them home. Merlin closed his eyes and giggled.

“What’s that for?” Arthur said, stealing a kiss from Merlin’s neck.

“This. Us. No one is going to be surprised, are they?” And Merlin twisted around so he could look at Arthur. “George brought me my journal and said that Sir Percival told Sir Leon that it belonged to you and that Gwen shouldn’t see it. Sir Leon and Percival didn’t know what was in the journal, did they?" Merlin didn’t think so, but he hoped not.

“Of course not, but I made it very clear to both that the journal was not to be seen by Gwen. She knew I had feelings for you, but I wasn't ready to admit to her how deep they were. Even knowing she and Leon were together, I couldn't admit to her that it was you I loved."

“So, how did she find out?” Merlin asked next, again, thinking he might be asking one too many questions, but, again, if Arthur didn’t want to answer, he wouldn’t.

“I think she always knew, but the day you told me you couldn’t go to Camlann with me, I sort of, well, I kind of lost it. Gwen found me staring out the window and er, well, I was…”

“You were CRYING, Arthur? Say it. You were crying!” Merlin could tease Arthur later, and perhaps he was having a bit too much fun with this, but what he really wanted to do was kiss all the hurt away. Sadly, at the moment he would have to settle for a smile and an I love you.

“Well, Merlin, you can’t always be the one everyone fawns over, can you? If I’ve learned one thing from you, it’s that everyone loves you and can’t help you enough. I always wondered why that was. I didn’t get it, but now I do. You are an open book. I mean, obviously there were things you hid, and you hid them well, but you didn’t care if others saw you emotional. You just loved being you. I, on the other hand, have always been far too concerned with how others would see me, and that has hindered me in so many ways. I know I’ll likely never change, but if you can reduce me to tears, I think there’s hope for me, yeah?”

“Yeah, there’s always hope, Arthur,” and Merlin grinned as he leant back and burrowed himself further into his lover and best friend. Neither spoke for several minutes and Merlin used this time to just enjoy being with Arthur. The past two weeks had taught him that nothing was guaranteed, therefore he would never again take for granted that he would always have Arthur in his life. Not that he planned to dwell on such, but he was forever changed, and that was a good thing. "My turn," and Merlin took the reins. "You rest."

"Aye, Sire," was Arthur's cheeky response, but several minutes later he put his mouth to Merlin's ear and began speaking.

“I remember you whispering that you loved me. I remember you touching my face and calling my name. I heard you yelling really loud. Then I remembered nothing. My next memory was fuzzy, but the thing that I remember the most about that moment was that you weren’t there. Everything after that was muddled. I don’t really know how to describe it and I really don’t want to. All I want to remember is that you came back. I didn’t think you would.” Arthur had said it all without stopping, but when he did finish, he kissed Merlin’s ear. “I didn’t think you would,” he repeated in a whisper.


End file.
